“You”—he drawled a vile name. “I orter have known!”
Still dazed with sleep, and not yet comprehending anything beyond the fact that he had been advised to put up his hands, and that a stranger had drawn an uncommonly fine bead on the head which he was in honor bound to preserve from mutilation, Tubbs blinked at Babe and inquired peevishly:
“What’s the matter with you?” He had forgotten that he was a thief.
“Shove up your hands!” yelled Babe.
With an expression of annoyance, Tubbs did as he was bid, but dropped them again upon seeing Ralston.
“Oh, hello!” he called cheerfully.
“Put them hands back!” Babe waved his rifle-barrel significantly.
“What’s the matter with you, feller?” inquired Tubbs crossly. Though he now recollected the circumstances under which they were found, Ralston’s
